Part 17 (2/2)

Near the ceiling, a crack appeared in the wall to the left. It ran as swiftly as a hare fleeing a fox, down the wall to the floor. Then a slab of wall gave a mighty groan and topped outward, crumbling as it fell. Part of the ceiling followed, but only after Conan and Raihna and the workers were safely clear of the fall.

As the dust settled, Conan looked at the pile of rubble, then spat to clear his throat. ”Well, men,” he said, ”I've been warning you that a sneeze could bring this ruin down on our heads. Now you see that I was speaking the G.o.ds' own truth.”

Some of the men still made gestures of aversion, but most of them laughed. Since none of them were under the rubble, they could turn it to a joke.

The men salvaged such of their food as wasn't buried or too dusty to eat and resumed their meal. Conan led Raihna aside into an empty chamber with a stone bench built into one crumbling wall. The bench creaked as they sat down on it but did not tumble them to the floor.

”I'd best see Decius about going on with this work,” the Cimmerian said. ”We've already laid traps in every part of the palace that's not this ruined or worse. If we go on into the old warrens, we'll have the place down on our heads before Syzambry comes to take them!”

”Let me speak to Decius first and see how the land lies,” Raihna said.

”He has heard enough about your notions of going into the field against our enemies. He will not be gracious if he thinks you are putting the matter forward again.”

Conan cursed-softly, out of fear of provoking another collapse. When he spoke, it was also softly, but more out of fear of listening ears.

”Mitra bury Decius in mule dung!” he said. ”There's as much sense in striking first as ever there was. And as little sense in waiting like rats in burrows for the ferrets to come down and s.n.a.t.c.h us!”

Raihna put a hand on Conan's arm. ”I think you do him an injustice, Conan.”

The Cimmerian shot Raihna a sharp look but said nothing. With another woman, he would have reasoned that Decius had begun to turn her head.

With Raihna, he knew that he would hear what she believed to be sense, even if he did not agree with it.

”How?”

”The Palace Guards are not fit for the field. He would be taking his own men and them only on any such raid. That would make the Guards stronger.”

Conan nodded slowly. He had seen enough intrigues in Turan to know that Decius was not starting at his own shadow. But-

”Does he fear the captains, me among them, or the men, or what?”

”The men Oyzhik may have left behind and whom you might not discover in time. He trusts your sword and your honor, Conan, but he also knows that you are a stranger here.”

”Yes, and men who might have been loyal before they saw a stranger made captain can turn to treason overnight.” Conan wished greatly for some wine to wash both dust and the taste of plots from his mouth. He had to content himself with spitting again.

Then he rose. ”Perhaps Decius has the right of it. But I still won't put my company at hazard from this tumbledown palace. Loyal men or not, they don't deserve to be squashed like grapes in a winepress!”

Raihna squeezed his hand. ”I'll say as much, and you'll lose nothing with Decius by his hearing it. That I can swear.”

She strode off, as graceful as ever, leaving Conan to ponder briefly how she could be so sure of Decius's goodwill. Of course, women had their ways-

And if he gave way to jealousy over that, he'd deserve to have the next piece of ceiling drop on his head, for all the use he was making of it!

Raihna would go where she pleased, and he could no more chain her than he could command the mysterious thunder that had now begun to roll through the hills at least once a night.

That thunder was worth a thought or two, for it reeked of sorcery. What Raihna might do to soothe Decius had naught to do with such matters.

Conan walked back to his men. They were already at work again, although slowly and casting doubtful looks at the walls and ceiling.

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